Dislcaimer: I wish I owned Persona. I really do. But I don't. That's life. I don't Hamlet, either. That's Shakespeare for you. And Yorick's dead. So I definitely don't own him. Because he's also Shakespeare's. XD

\/\/\/

Dance to the Waltz

Chapter Two

Hotshot

\/\/\/

"You worthless excuse for a man!" Ulala pushed her lips into the phone, eight o' clock that night. "I've been trying to call you all day, and you don't even once think to pick up the phone? What is wrong with you?"

"Shut up, woman. What do you think you know, anyway?" Baofu's voice was slowly cracking up on the other line. It wasn't him, though. Ulala knew it was the connection.

"Honestly, more than you. You told me to call you this morning, Baofu, about a case, remember?" The redhead was more than furious. She began to pace in her room, angrily, flailing her free hand about while her other tightly gripped the phone.

Maya had failed to come home in the last few hours, and it left Ulala bored and alone. Reaching for the phone, she, once again, attempted a number that she had been dialing thirty-five times that day. She was simply lucky when she managed to get through, but his cranky, "hello," put her in a despicable mood very quickly.

She had asked him his excuse for not calling, to which he had none, and she flared up. It was amazing that her matching colored hair did not do the same.

"Well, obviously I wasn't home, stupid. You don't keep calling after that point."

What had he just said? No, he didn't just say… "What did you just say? You and I are partners, moron!"

"Secretary. How many more times do we have to go through that, Serizawa? It's really tiresome, even coming from you."

Her cheeks puffed out wide and into circular shaped red balls. How dare he speak to her like that.

"I'll see you in hell, Baofu!" and with that, she slammed down the phone.

Moments later, the door slowly creaked open, and Maya slid in.

"You're late getting home," Ulala huffed, not even bothering to turn around.

"I'm not late," Maya argued, her voice low, yet somewhat filled with disappointment. "I've been standing out in the hall for about an hour now."

With that, the redhead spun around. "What?" she asked, dumbly.

Maya sighed, exasperated, and set her bag down on the ground. "Look, Ulala, I'm not even going to go there. I was just waiting for you and Baofu to finish fighting." She forced a glare at her older friend. "What happened now?"

"What do you mean 'what happened now?'" Maya braced herself for the explosion and walked out of Ulala's room, the frantic woman following close behind. "The same thing as before, of course. I call him and when I finally get through to him, and ask him where he's been all day, he responds, 'shopping.' Now what is that? And then I ask him why he didn't bother calling me and he says, 'I don't know.' Ma-ya, is that normal?"

Nearing her breaking point, Maya gritted her teeth, aimlessly cleaning up around her own room. She was fed up with the constant bickering between the two. "With Baofu, yes. But he's being very irresponsible about his work. I understand that he was supposed to call you about the case, but isn't there any way you can receive the paperwork on your own?"

"No," Ulala huffed and plopped down on Maya's bed while the raven haired woman cleaned around it. "He keeps it all to himself."

"…That's ridiculous…" the younger woman muttered.

"I know it's ridiculous, Ma-ya, but that's not gonna fix anything. This isn't the first time he's blown me off. He's actually been doing it a lot recently."

"I know that," Maya responded, stooping low to pick up some dirty clothes. Whenever Ulala and Baofu fight, Ulala and I fight. Why can't she see that this is tearing us apart! "Ulala, if he's being this way, then why don't you find a new job?"

The elder rolled her eyes, leaning back on her elbows, sprawled out across Maya's bed. "I told you why already. This job pays too good to let go, Ma-ya."

"It's not a good job if your employer keeps you locked in the dark, Ulala."

Ulala sighed, rubbing her temples.

Which is worse? Maya wondered. The fights between Baofu and her or the fights between me and my best friend?

"Ma-ya, we all know how Bao is. It's just—"

Maya snapped. "Then why are you telling me about it?" Ulala froze, staring up at the terror that was her best friend. She had never seen Maya this angry before, and the redhead never knew what a fright she could be. The younger woman's face was a crimson red, and she hurled all of the clothes that she had gathered to the floor. "You don't seem to understand, Ulala. All you do is complain about how much he irritates you, and how much he hurts you. Lord, I've been trying to help you and you do nothing but defend him and make me out to be the bad guy." Raking her hands through her scalp, Maya did all that she could not to scream.

In turn, Ulala bounded off of the bed and pushed her face into Maya's. "Is that what you think, Maya?" When she had failed to accent Maya's name, like she often did, Maya knew that she had unleashed the beast inside of Ulala. But it didn't matter anymore. "That I want this?"

Maya forced herself to stare evenly into her friend's eyes. "Isn't it? You make it seem like you have no other choice but to stay with him and his 'so-called' job. Why don't you find another job, Ulala? Why?"

"I don't have to answer myself to you," Ulala stormed past her, reaching for the door that led to her room. "You're supposed to be my best friend and I can't believe you'd say such a thing." Whirling around on one foot, she pointed an accusing finger at the younger woman. "I can't believe that you're not more understanding."

"What do you want me to say, Ulala?" Maya shouted back, her voice perfectly matching her opponent's. "Every time I ask to call him up and give him a piece of my mind, you say I'm butting into your life and just make things worse." Suddenly, the younger woman's face grew sad and she pleaded, "I just want to help you, Ulala. But you always stick up for him. You call me and tell me the things he's said and done to you, and when I get mad, you tell me to calm down. What is it that you want, Ulala? Tell me, please."

Ulala stood there for a moment, holding her tongue and staring Maya in the eye. Her face had lost its red, but the younger woman knew that she was seething on the inside. Ulala had a hot temper, though Maya knew that, deep down, she was a sweet woman. The only reason she could figure that Ulala would stand up for Baofu like this, even after his insensitive words and actions, was because she had developed feelings for him. This is so uncharacteristic, even for you, Ulala.

Finally, the redhead exhaled through her nose, and turned back to her room. "Leave me alone." And she slammed the door behind her, causing a few pictures and knickknacks to fall from the walls and shelves. Maya stared after her for quite some time, not exactly sure how to feel.

\/\/\/

The cause for all the trouble sat alone in his lair, swinging a bottle of hard liquor, loosely in between his fingers, back and forth. He lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling above him, where a whirling fan spun its blades around in a never-ending circle. Baofu glanced at the phone out of the corner of his eye, stifling a laugh. She said, "I'll see you in Hell!" …What a hysterical thought…

She was probably throwing things around the house now, or starting another fight with Maya. Baofu felt slightly guilty for that—having to put Maya through the torment of his and Ulala's epic battles. What am I thinking? I feel "guilty?" Nah, not true. But, then again, the older man knew that he had been less than kind lately.

There was a reason for it, just like always.

It wasn't as though he enjoyed fighting with Ulala, seeing her cry, or watching Maya become distressed because of the cause between them. In fact, it almost tore him up inside. Especially since Maya and Ulala were such good friends, he hated to see them be divided because of him. Still, it was strange for Serizawa to be so apt to starting fights, anyway. Usually, she was the ditz and caught onto things last. Not quite a pacifist, but not quite like him, either.

At first, Baofu had silently made a joke about "that time of the month" for her, but five days had long since passed, and three and a half months just seemed too long. After the fights began, he thought that things were back to normal with her. Then, Maya began calling.

"This needs to stop," and "I can't take much more," were the usual introductory topics to their conversations, and sometimes it would take hours to calm the usually optimistic woman down. He was running out of excuses for acting the way that he did, and he truly did want Ulala to be his partner in his job, but something had come up recently that he just couldn't ignore.

It was fine when the mansearching cases began, and there wasn't much to report, but when the chief called to send Baofu an opening to an ongoing case, that's when the fights only grew more heated. When he had received the papers earlier that day, that's when he knew that things were over with. Ulala just couldn't work with him anymore.

It had nothing to do with her. That was completely honest on his part, but things were slowly spinning out of control and Baofu found himself gradually avoiding her and her phone calls. More than once this week had she come to his place to work and he would have the door locked—a silent gesture to "go home." When he had returned home earlier that day to find a none too pleasant sounding note scribbled on his front door that, all in all, past the cursing and threats, she had told him to call her—which he put off, too.

Baofu had been off his guard when he answered the phone inattentively and she began ranting and raving about him being undependable and lazy. Before the call, Baofu had been thinking of a way to let the woman down easy and "fire" her. However, all thoughts had been forgotten after that and he ended up joining in the battle that he had fought so hard to avoid.

The real reason for his thoughtless behavior was none other than the IC case.

It wasn't a new case, that's for sure, and he was almost positive that everyone on the police force (maybe even Suou, too, in between all of his weeping and wailing) everywhere had heard of it. The chief had informed him before that it was still an active case, and had been for the past four years. Heck, even Baofu hadn't been so blind as to not have known about it. However, all past thoughts about it were strictly put to the "Old Maid" cases.

\/\/\/

"Chief?" Baofu adjusted the headphones on his head and the mouthpiece to his wireless phone. "How's the static?"

"It's fine," the man replied, his voice deep and old. "Listen, did you get the copies yet?"

Baofu chewed on the end of an unlit cigarette. "…Yeah," he replied after a moment. "What does it all mean?"

"It's about the IC case."

"Ice?" Baofu couldn't resist the sudden urge to crack a joke. "As in, icepack or ice cube?"

His humor went unnoticed. "No, IC, just I-C. It's the new name the specialists have given to the case. It used to be bundled in along with the Joker murders, remember?"

Baofu sighed and reached into his pocket for his handy lighter. "Yeah, I remember. They wanted to believe that the killings had spread to all sorts of places, like Berlin and Southampton. However, there was something different about all the murders. They weren't torn to pieces like in the Joker killings. The cause of death for all the victims seemed to be asphyxiation and their bodies were shriveled and fragile looking, as though all the blood and fertility had been sucked dry."

"To top it off," the chief cut in, "there were the Roman Numeral markings carved into their foreheads. After Tatsuzou was brought down and the Joker unmasked, we thought that everything was back to normal."

Baofu pulled the mouthpiece away for a mere second to cover his mouth and the cigarette, pulling back on the switch. He exhaled and a cloud of smoke swirled up around him. "Then there was that murder in Berlin three months ago."

"Exactly. The numbers 7XVIIIIC were carved into his head. He was found in an alleyway just outside a hotel. Middle-aged, decent job, never seemed to be in any trouble."

"So we're just trying to determine if there's a motive behind all this…" Baofu chuckled, tilting his hand containing the cigarette away from him. "Numbers, you say? Sounds like a poorly constructed math problem, if you ask me. 7X sounds like Algebra."

"Well…perhaps they aren't numbers after all. Perhaps they really are letters that are forming a code. No one has been able to crack the code yet, but the numbers do rise." Baofu leaned forward in his chair and he heard the chief clear his throat, preparing a speech, no doubt. "According to the recent files we've obtained, the natural digits have gone from 6X to 7X."

"And the total number of victims?" Baofu didn't want to hear the speech. He wanted the chief to cut right to the chase.

"Over the past four years? Seventy-eight."

The tap buster frowned and drummed his fingers against his counter top, taking a long drag off of his cigarette. "And you think that this sounds normal, Chief? Sounds like a monster to me…" He shook his head, his long hair moving along with his sudden movements. "That's an average of two to three murders a month. And we have no leads, you say?"

"No. Every lead we get turns out to be a dead end. Not to mention, these murders have been evolving, so to speak."

"Evolving?"

"The way these people are dying and the way it's being done. At first, the victims were without marks and carvings on their foreheads. They were found in random graveyards, buried, with a mock marker above their heads. A limb like a foot or arm would be protruding from the ground, so the caretakers or other civilians could spot them easily. It always looked like they suffocated, so we knew the murders were tied. Then, about five or six months later, that's when the carvings started."

"What was the first carving? Can you recall?"

"Hmm…" There was a brief pause on the other line, then the sound of shuffling papers. "That information should've been in the papers I already sent you two months ago, but if you don't remember, I'll look for you." Not a moment later, the chief, said, "1XIC."

His eyebrows lifting, Baofu repeated, "1XIC? I see…"

"That's not the half of it," the chief continued. "Before long, these people were being killed just like that, except, they were being buried just wherever. Eight months ago, there was a report of an arm coming straight up from out of the street."

"What?" Baofu's sudden intake of breath nearly caused him his own case of asphyxiation, but he grabbed the cigarette before it could be completely inhaled. "Straight out of the street?"

"It didn't even look like anyone had tampered with the concrete, and it would be very difficult to do, but, indeed, there was a body with the mark "6XVIIIC" in the middle of the road."

Baofu decided to smother the cigarette before it caused him further injury. Pushing it back and forth into the face of the glass ashtray, he dropped the paper stick completely and said, "Well, I don't doubt your thoughts of Roman Numerals, Chief. I'll check it out though." Baofu paused, slightly concerned with what being involved in this particular case entailed for him. Naturally, the man wasn't scared of anything, but with no leads and no suspects, this, indeed, was going to be a very dangerous case.

"I appreciate this, Kaoru. I have never doubted your talents in this profession, which is why I've come directly to you. I know how you feel about working outside your territory, but could I ask you to move overseas for a while? The topic of this case is more popular elsewhere. I'll even pay expenses for that nice young friend of yours."

He was talking about Ulala.

Baofu frowned.

There was no way he'd ever involve her in this.

"Thanks, Chief. I'll get back to you about it."

"Make sure to read those reports, Kaoru. It sounds apparent already that you haven't."

"I know, I know. Don't worry about it."

\/\/\/

That had been the call he received early this morning—when Ulala was scheduled to call. But the day was over now, and Baofu remained passed out on the couch, dropping the bottle of liquor from his hands and letting it roll across the floor.

\/\/\/

Maya was sprawled out across her bed, her eyes drifting to the lone balcony outside where the sun warmly smiled upon the lanai and the small patch of plants she had planted there early last summer. Ulala had left without a word that morning. She hadn't even bothered to tell Maya where she was going or when she'd be back. Guess she's still steamed from last night.

Half of an hour passed, and the young woman forced herself into a cold shower, thoughts rewinding in reverse. I hate fighting with her and it's something we never, ever do. I just wish she understood what she was doing with this indecisiveness of hers…

She had, honestly, tried to understand the older woman's pain. Really, she had. But month after month of it, Maya could not help but grow weary with all the fuss between Ulala and Baofu. She had tried pleading with Baofu, but, apparently, nothing had worked. She debated about whether or not it was best to pay Baofu a visit herself.

Stepping out from the shower, Maya dried her hair and her body, and reached for her clothes of the day. Today was her day off, so she pulled on something relaxing—a navy blue shirt and dark jeans which hung loosely at her ankles. She moved back and forth from room to room, multitasking from running a comb through her hair, to painting makeup on her face, to finding her slippers—anything to get her mind off of last night.

Then a knock came to the door.

Dropping everything, Maya whirled around in her room, and inwardly cursed. She had a good inclination of who stood at her doorway from the promise she had made the night before coming home. She slowly padded over to the door, reached for the handle, and pulled it open.

Hero Stonefield stood there, dressed in a black turtleneck with matching denim pants. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, loosely, and he glanced down at her, his sharp eyes being tormented by the long bangs of his unkempt hair.

"Well?" he began, saying nothing at first, but realizing that she was going to do the same thing until someone broke the ice. "I see you're dressed."

I forgot he was coming by today. "Hero, I'm sorry but…I'm really not in the mood for this right now. Can we do it tomorrow?"

When Maya first met him, her first impression had been the "tall, dark and handsome" type who rarely used words at all. And, indeed, he was. But nothing had prepared her for what he was about to do.

"What's that?" he asked, stumbling back out into the hallway. "Thou hast the deepest desire to deny me a moment of happiness?" His eyes were hurt and his hand clutched his heart. Instantly reaching into his pants pocket, he withdrew the case that had once beheld his precious cell phone. "Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is!" He turned his eyes away from the phone case, eyebrows arched and almost touching, as he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "My gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?"

When she was certain that he was quite finished, Maya's mouth gaped to say something, until she could do nothing more but fall to the floor, laughing most hysterically. He bowed, awaiting applause, which she gave him, heartily. He walked into her apartment and stooped low to help her to her feet. When Maya had recovered and took his hand to balance herself with, she held her reddened face, tears of laughter forming at the brim of her eyes.

"Actor?" she asked, still smiling.

"Not really. I was forced into the school plays back in high school, but I was never any good at it." Shrugging, Hero admitted, "Crowds always made me feel uncomfortable."

Maya was astonished. "But…you did so well there. What was that? Macbeth?"

Smiling, he shook his head. "No, Hamlet, actually. A friend of mine is the actress, but she got me hooked on the plays. And, well, you see the result. But, no, I'm not an actor."

"I can't believe it," she breathed. "You should be."

Again, he shook his head. "No, I haven't the time for it. Now then, are you going to show me around or not?"

Realizing that she was feeling much better now, Maya shot him daggers. "You only did that to get me to go."

"No," he corrected, waving a finger in her face. "I did it to make you feel better."

"Liar."

"And I see that you are feeling better. Therefore, you can show me around, right?" When she said nothing, he leaned back to stretch. "Or, of course, you can just buy me another cell phone…"

"Fine, fine. You win."

She heard him snicker softly.

\/\/\/

"Well?" Yuki fiddled her thumbs and sat on the expensive looking sofa of Nate's penthouse. "Have you heard from them yet?" Her eyes moved up to meet Ellen's bright ones and then back to Nate's.

"Other than those who live here in Sumaru," the rich boy began, "I haven't really heard from any of them."

"I see…" Yuki lowered her head, musing. She had called this get-together, the least they could do was respond to say "yes" or "no." "And…who all are we waiting on?"

"The same three that no one has heard from," the only male in the room continued. He sank back further into his armchair, crossing one leg loosely over the other. "Mark, Alana, and Hero have absolutely no manners."

His words were stern, but his eyes were playful. The girls knew, even if he wouldn't admit it, that he was excited to see everyone again.

"And you're no help, Nate," Yuki snorted. "Lots of help your men have been. Maya has told me all about your playing both sides to her friends."

Nate instantly sat up, unlocking his legs and fingers clutching the armrests. "What in the world are you implying? I only did what they asked me to do; it's not like I did it to be spiteful. Besides, it was for the safety of everyone."

"That's so like you," Yuki rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out. Ellen merely giggled.

"Katsuya was in such a flurry when Baofu exposed his savings to his little brother, Yuki. You should've seen it."

"I…I…" The heir to Nanjo looked around, flabbergasted, at the women who were tag-teaming up against him. "You simply don't understand," he nearly bellowed. He quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, that's not the point. And I did have my men look into the whereabouts of the three; they just haven't really responded is all." Sitting back into his chair, Nate gave an exasperated huff, and folded his arms over his chest, bitterly.

Yuki chuckled. "Well, you should've said that in the first place, Nate. It would've saved us a lot of hassle."

"You didn't give me time. You delved straight into what I did prior."

His face was red now, and his spectacles were slowly fogging up from the anger.

"All right, all right, don't make such a fuss," the photographer continued. "Have at it. What happened?"

Adjusting his glasses, Nate took a deep breath and said, "I had my men find Mark. Apparently, he's back from America and has relocated in Lunarvale again."

"Again?" Yuki and Ellen chorused.

"What's he doing back there?" Ellen questioned a moment afterward.

He shrugged. "Search me. Last I heard he was doing very well in his art study in New York. Apparently, he took Mary's breakup harder than we all thought."

"Oh my," the model gasped, holding her delicate fingers to her lips. "What…happened?"

"It's not a happy end, I must say that." Nate shook his head. "Evidently, he lost all interest in art and moved back just recently. Someone told me that he's been working as a manager in one of the new Club Zodiacs that have opened up there."

"Oh…manager…isn't…that bad…" But Yuki knew better. She bit down on her bottom lip and looked to Ellen, who was much in the same state.

"Poor Mark…" the model shook her head. "All because of…Mary?" At Nate's nod, she asked, "Does Mary know?"

Sighing and leaning his head back, Nate answered softly, "I haven't the heart to really tell her. She says she's moved on from Mark, but it would hurt her to hear that he's lost himself again. It's the reason why they broke up in the first place. When she asked me to find him after they split three years ago, I told her that he was still in America. I never told her about the drastic decline in his career."

The girls were still for a moment longer, and Nate took the opportunity to clean his glasses. Yuki broke the silence.

"Well, you got a hold of him, right? What did he say?"

Nate was not as quick to answer as he normally was. Instead, he let the moments drag on a little longer. And then he broke the ice. "At first, he seemed interested in attending. Then he asked if Mary was going to be there." Ellen and Yuki knew where this was going. "When I said 'yes,' he suddenly began to make up excuses that he couldn't come after all."

"What a punk," Yuki's brows furrowed. "He and Mary haven't spoken in three years. I think it's high-time they kissed and made up. I know Mary's willing to do so."

"This would be a perfect opportunity, too," Ellen agreed, though her answer came more in a whisper than Yuki's enthusiastic outburst.

"I tried to convince him," Nate admitted, honestly. "But after that, he really wouldn't say much more. I suppose, in a way, you could say he hung up on me."

"That's it," Yuki nearly jumped up from her chair. "I don't care how much it costs, I'm going to buy a plane ticket, go back to Lunarvale, and bring him here. I'll drag him kicking and screaming if I have to."

This prompted a giggle from Ellen and a half smirk from Nate.

"That," Nate said, "I would actually pay to see."

"Well," Yuki broke her glare and burst out laughing, "I would, too."

"The reunion is a little ways away," Ellen reminded them. "So we still have some time to try and convince Mark to join us. In the meanwhile, Nate, how's Alana?"

"Oh Lord," Nate turned and allowed his face to fall into the palm of his hand. "Where to begin with her?"

"Is it…that bad?" Ellen asked, still trying to sober up from Yuki's last comment.

Nate peered over his hand, eyes almost glaring. "Yes and no."

"This, I must hear," Yuki scooted her chair closer and leaned forward.

"I found out that her parents grew tired of her and sent her to a reformation school in Paris, France," Nate explained. "Somewhat like a boarding school, but it was for delinquent girls."

"Alana…a delinquent?" Ellen blinked.

"Yes, my thoughts exactly," he nodded. "But it teaches women propriety and responsibility…both traits that Alana greatly lacks."

"And? And? And?" Ellen squealed, "Did it work?"

The rich boy shrugged. "I haven't seen her, so I can't say. However, get this: she's taken up acting."

"Acting?" another echo from the two women.

Nate waited for the screeching to subside before continuing on. "Yes, acting. And you know what else? People can tolerate her. Now there's a feat that even I could not do."

"Nate," Yuki reached back to firmly grasp a fluffy object and slugged him with a pillow. "That's cruel."

He attempted to ward off his attacker and suddenly jumped up from his own chair. "It's true. Ellen, I think you were the only one who could truly stand her, am I not correct?"

"You just want me to beat you with this pillow, don't you?"

"Yuki!" he swatted back. "Do you want me to tell you the rest or not?"

She stepped back, but her cheeks were budding with red. He adjusted the sky blue cloth around his neck with the black, bold "1" printed on it.

"Anyway," he said, calming himself. "That's all I know about her. She hasn't returned my call that I left either. I'll probably try again later on today."

"And Hero?" Ellen's eyes lit up. "What have you learned about him?"

Nate saw the sparkle of hope in her eyes and he flinched slightly. "I…haven't found him…" he admitted, though it was painful to do. "I never could."

"Never could?" Yuki stood only a few feet away from him and she rose her "weapon" again. "You're the richest guy I know and get everything you want. What do you mean you couldn't find him?"

"Exactly what I said," he said, dourly. "I couldn't find him after he left Lunarvale. I know, it's odd, but it's the truth."

Ellen's hope died. "So…even you couldn't find him…"

"Ellen," Yuki turned towards the model. "Don't be like that; we'll find him." The photographer pivoted back around to see Nate, teeth clenched. "Won't we, Nate?" The way she said it sent chills down his spine. Still, he only cleared his throat, ran a hand over his slick, black hair, and turned away.

"Look, I don't respond well to threats. I told you already that I'm doing the best I can."

"He's right," Ellen defended. "Let it go, Yuki."

"But…" Yuki glanced back and forth between them, and then sighed. "So…now what?"

"I'm going to try and call Alana again," Nate told them. "From the sounds of it, Mark hasn't heard from Hero either, but then again, Mark is too deeply wallowing within his depression and misery to get in touch with anyone. The last who even heard from Mark was Brad, and that was several months ago."

"And Chris?" Yuki asked. "I know they're good friends too."

Nate agreed. "They are, but every time Chris invites him to come out and visit, Mark makes up excuses. This dilemma has gone far enough, if you ask me."

"Yeah," Ellen's voice was flat, but she tried to smile. "I suppose I can ask around to see if anyone has heard from Hero."

"You do that," Yuki concurred. "And I'll do the same. There has to be someone who has heard from our notorious leader."

"Anyway, I'll let you know what I come up with," Nate promised. "Until then, there's nothing to do but wait."

\/\/\/

Tatsuya Suou walked in the very next morning, knowing that no one would be home. He had spent the night at one of his friend's houses, and he knew that he probably had it coming to him from his brother later on, since he was at work now. Geez, but I tried to call him. It's not my fault he didn't pick up.

He closed the door behind him, and realized how cold the house was. Tatsuya shivered and rubbed his arms. "Man, what an igloo. What the heck? Did he just forget to turn up the heater or something?"

Despite the darkness emitting from the living room, Tatsuya maneuvered around the couch and chairs and stalked down the hall towards his brother's room. Watch, he left the heater on in there. Guess he's trying to punish me for staying out all night. However, he was surprised to find Katsuya's room was equally chilly.

Not to mention, things looked…different. As in "gone." Like…like he "moved out" gone. His pillow was gone, the comforter had vanished, and when Tatsuya rushed to rummage through his brother's drawers, almost all of his clothes had been "magicked away." The teen frowned as he hovered above Katsuya's sock drawer, fingers drumming against the wood of the dresser.

"He abandoned me," the boy concluded and brusquely made his way back to the front room, where the conjoined kitchen was—but not before turning up the thermostat on the heater as he passed. If Katsuya was going to say anything about it at all, there would be a mile long letter on the counter of the kitchen.

And indeed there was. Tatsuya snatched it up, turned to lean against the counter, and read the note aloud. "'Tatsuya, will be gone on a business trip for approximately two weeks. Call Miss Amano on her cell if you need anything. Stay out of trouble, brush your teeth, change your clothes, blah-blah-blah, and do your homework. Will see you when I get back. Love, big brother.'" Tatsuya crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the trash. "Touching. He didn't even say where he'd be."

Of course, there was always the police station. He could call there to make sure his brother didn't take off on some "vacation" or the other. I doubt he would run off with some girl. He's terrified of them. The thought made him chuckle. Turning to the wall that had the phone attached, he pulled it from the receiver, and dialed the number to Chief Sakamoto's office.

He only had to wait for a few rings before someone picked up—but it wasn't the chief.

"Captain Nishidate," the man answered, his voice sounding somewhat impatient.

Tatsuya had met the captain once when his older brother had taken him to the station to celebrate his promotion to becoming a detective. It was boring, Tatsuya admitted to himself, but he did it for the pride of his big brother.

"Captain Nishidate," Tatsuya spoke into the receiver. "It's Tatsuya, Katsuya's little brother."

"Tatsuya? Ah, yes, I remember. What can I do for you?"

Tatsuya began to twirl the cord around his index finger. "I'm looking for my brother. Do you know where he is?"

"Ahhh…did you already try his office?"

"Yes," Tatsuya lied. "He's not there."

"…Just a moment, Tatsuya, the chief walked in. I'll ask him for you."

"I appreciate it." He waited as he was put on hold, eyes drifting to his brother's crumpled letter in the trash can. If all else failed, he could probably call Maya, his brother's "friend," as he had said before. What a joke. He's a terrible liar. Tatsuya rolled his eyes, slightly bouncing his head back and forth, waiting for Nishidate to come back on the line.

The phone on the other end jiggled for a second. "Tatsuya?" Captain Nishidate's voice came back onto the receiver.

"Yeah?"

"Your brother's in Lunarvale. He volunteered to go and check out some ruins there for us. He'll be back in two to three weeks."

Tatsuya frowned. "What? He volunteered?" That's not what his stupid letter said! "And three weeks?"

"Two to three." The captain was puzzled, "You sound confused. Did he not inform you about this?"

"No," Tatsuya answered, bitterly, "he didn't."

"That's awfully strange…It seems unlike him."

"I guess." The teen shoved his other hand into his pocket.

"Well, I apologize on behalf of him." Don't be sorry, Tatsuya clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Is there anything you need?"

"Not at the moment, but thanks for asking."

"Well…you know who to call if you need anything…"

Not you guys. "I appreciate it."

"All right, then. I will talk to you later. Take care."

"You too." And Tatsuya hung up the phone. He stared at it for a few minutes before turning around and muttering, "Lousy brother." Then he stopped and his eyes were drawn back to the phone, like a magnet. "I wonder if Maya knows about this, or if he just volunteered her to 'baby-sit' me."

\/\/\/

"Peace Diner? We had one of these back in Lunarvale." Hero remarked as he held his cheeseburger in both hands.

"So you are from Lunarvale," Maya smiled, holding a solitary French fry in between her fingers. She pointed at him with it, smiling. "I knew I've seen your face before."

"Oh?" he replied, looking at her oddly. "Well, up until yesterday, I could be almost positive that I hadn't met you before." He leaned down to take a bite from his burger. Before he did, however, a smile curled at his lips and he asked, "Where on earth could you have possibly seen me?"

Maya stiffened, realizing that she hadn't even told him. Sumaru Television, the curse, the cat, Ellen's fears… Persona user… Strangely enough, Maya could even sense the resonance from him. It wasn't faint either. Hero was a Persona user himself, but she couldn't be quite sure if he knew it.

"Ah…" she halted, thinking of an excuse, "…You know Ellen Kirishima, right?"

Hero jolted upright at the sound of the name. "Fhwhy?" he inquired with a mouth full of food. "Bif fare fuumfing prong?"

Maya laughed as he paused and worked to clean up the sprayed particles of food from the table. "Sorry," he muttered, reaching across to her side to clean up the mess with a huge stack of napkins once he had regained his composure.

"What did you say?" she questioned, ignoring his apology.

"I asked if something was wrong. I do know her, but I'm surprised that you do, too." Shooting a glance upwards, Hero added, "Small world, I suppose."

"Yes," Maya nodded. "Nothing's wrong, either. But she talks a lot about you and showed us a picture. I knew it was you from the moment I met you."

"Wow," he grinned. "I can't believe I'm so popular. How did you meet Ellen, anyway?"

"We met her through Nate."

"Nanjo?"

"Right."

Hero's grin broke and he fell from the chair from shock. "I haven't seen him in ages. I can't believe he'd speak to you, though, with his status and all…" At Maya's concerned look, Hero quickly assured, "Ah, don't worry. He's actually one of my very good friends. I just find it silly that he can't really take a joke."

At that, Maya mirrored his smile. "I can agree with you there."

After excusing everyone's awkward glances, the blue haired fellow picked himself off from the ground, brushed away the dirt from his pants, and seated himself back in the chair where his half eaten hamburger waited for him still.

"I can't tell you how ecstatic this makes me," he admitted, his eyes bright and shining. "Anyone who's a friend to them is more than a friend to me. This makes me even happier that we met."

Stirring her fry in the small paper cup of ketchup, Maya heartily agreed. For the first time that day, her mind hadn't revolved around anything from the night before, or even from past incidents. Although this man appeared to be a quiet, hardworking man, he had surprised her more than once that day. Even from Ellen's descriptions of him, she had not once ever mentioned that he could be so playful. She could see why he had won over the young girl's heart.

"Me too," she said, looking up from her red swirls and sticking the fry in her mouth.

"So tell me," Hero perched his chin on his elbow, eating his burger from there. "Who else has crossed your path that I may know?"

Maya began to tick off the people she could think of on her fingers. "Let's see…Yuki?"

"Mayuzumi?"

"Yes." At his brilliant grin, she added, "She's a photographer at Kismet with me."

"Ah, so you're good friends with her, too?"

"Oh yes, she has a bright personality."

Hero quirked an eyebrow. "Yuki? Are we talking about the same 'Yuki' here?"

Maya looked into her plastic tub and frowned. All the fries were gone. Ah, well, that's okay. "Why?"

"Well, let's just say that Yuki was like the mother of our little group. She had a job before the rest of us, extra spending money, was more responsible than say…my friend, Alana…" At the mentioning of her name, he asked, "Do you know Alana Yuka?"

"Alana? Ah, no, I'm afraid I can't say that I have met her."

He blew it off. "That's all right. She hasn't been in touch with anyone else. I don't think Mark has, either, but that's just upon speculation. At least, that's what Alana's told me."

"Mark?"

"Inaba. Guess you don't know him." Hero shrugged. "No big deal. What about Mary Sonomura? Do you know her?"

Maya's face lit up. "Oh, Mary's a darling. I've never met someone who was so willing to give more of herself to help others."

Hero nodded, "Yeah, Mary's like that. Is she doing well?"

"Yes, she's studying at the Hiiragi Therapy over in Konan ward."

"That's good to know. I would like to see her while I'm here."

Before Hero could ask more about his old friends, a jittery little tune went off and Maya grabbed at her bag, withdrawing a pink cell phone from inside. "Hello?"

"Maya? It's Tatsuya."

The raven haired woman gasped as her other hand fled for her lips. He had never called her on her phone before. It was quite…a shock.

"Maya?" Hero's face paled, as though something bad had happened, and he leaned over.

Shaking her head, Maya used her hand to dictate that nothing was the matter and he sat back down, slowly. "Tatsuya? Hi, what's up?"

"Sorry, I know I've never called you before. My brother gave me your number."

Maya made a face. Leave it to Katsuya. "Ah, that's all right. He told me yesterday that he did because he was going away for a while."

"So that's true, right? He never said anything to me."

That's strange, Maya thought. His little brother is the rising sun in Katsuya's eyes. It's odd to imagine him not telling Tatsuya where he was going and when he was going to be back. Now Tatsuya on the other hand…

"Hmm…I'm sure he meant to, but it was a last minute thing, he said. He was off to catch a plane when I saw him."

"Oh…really?" The teenager sounded upset.

"Tatsuya, Don't be angry at him. I know sometimes he's like that, but he cares deeply about you." Her eyes looked up at Hero and she mouthed, "pen." He gazed at her, awkwardly, and then mouthed back, "got'cha." He patted around his shirt and pants, and leaned down to explore the deep fissures of the denim pockets. "Besides, I already told him that it would be okay anytime for you to come and see me for anything you need."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that. He wrote that in the crummy letter he left for me. I called the station and the chief told me had he volunteered to do this."

"Volunteered?" A tiny clank came at her direction, and Maya glanced down at the ballpoint pen rolling along the surface of the table. Snatching it up, she reached for a napkin, held the phone in the crook of her neck, and began to scribble something out. "He never told me that. He said it was a business trip. He made it sound like they had ordered him to go."

"My thoughts exactly. So, he didn't tell you he volunteered for this either? I can't believe him…"

Maya tossed the almost illegible written napkin in Hero's direction, who caught it deftly, and began to read:

"Would you mind if I invited a friend to join us over here?"

He peered over the napkin, where her wide eyes were staring at him, almost pleadingly. Hero smiled and shook his head.

Maya's face brightened and she said, "Listen, Tatsuya, I don't know what you've got planned for today, but I'm here at the Peace Diner in Yumezaki with a friend and you're more than welcomed to join us. Whaddya say?"

There was a brief silence on the end and Maya was certain that Tatsuya was still too angry at his older brother to understand anything she had just said. In fact, she could've almost sworn that he had just cursed. He'll probably turn me down. But then he replied, "Sure. Why not?"

"Great," the raven haired woman beamed. "I'll see you over here then, okay?"

"Sounds good. Talk to you later." Then he hung up.

"What was that about?" Hero asked as Maya stuffed her phone away.

"Uh…one of my friends went out of town yesterday to Lunarvale," she semi-smiled on that last part. "That was his little brother on the phone, Tatsuya. Apparently, Tatsuya hadn't heard a word about his brother's leaving…not to mention…" Just then, the woman almost scowled, "…Katsuya never said a word about having volunteered for this."

"Katsuya? Tatsuya's older brother?"

"Yes."

Hero grinned. "That's a cute little ditty. Wonder whose idea it was to do that?"

"To do what?"

"Their names sound so close alike. It's adorable."

Maya ignored him. "I wouldn't have minded if Katsuya had volunteered to do this—after all, it's his work, but I wish he would've told me that. He made the trip sound out to be something that the station sent him to do."

"Why so angry?" Hero shrugged.

"I just…" Maya turned away. "I guess I don't like seeing Tatsuya this flustered, that's all."

"Oh?" He looked at her, skeptically, though it was meant more as a joke. When she shot a glare at him, he shifted his elbows on the table, finished off the last of his hamburger, and cleared this throat. "So, Kismet, eh? What is it that you do there?"

She noticed his abrupt change of the subject, but let him slide anyway. "I'm the editor of the magazine, 'Coolest,' at the Kismet office." Maya announced. "I manage the reporters."

"Coolest, eh?" Hero leaned forward. "What kind of magazine is that?"

The editor was a tad disappointed to learn that he had never heard of them. "It's a popular teen magazine," she answered.

Sensing the bitterness in her voice, Hero quickly stood, gathering the trash into his arms. "Ah, right. I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry about it," she responded, dejectedly. "I've actually been getting that a lot recently."

He forced a laugh. "Heh, well, don't take it personally. I'm sure that it's a great magazine. Do you have any articles on you? I'd like to take a look at your work." He stood up from his chair.

"On me? Well…" Maya reached back into her back, revealing the latest issue for the month of October. "There's one in there that I wrote," she confessed, handing it to him as he walked back from the trash can. "If you look on the table of contents, I think it's on page fifty-two."

Indeed he sought out the article. When the bold lettering flashed in front of his eyes, he asked, "'Daring Debut Draws Nearer?'" His eyebrow lifted and, at her nod, he sat down at his seat.

She waited patiently for several minutes, drumming her fingers over the countertop of the small table, awaiting his approval. Deeper and deeper his face fell into the book, almost as though he were falling asleep. She frowned. He…wasn't falling asleep…right?

"You okay?" she asked him after ten minutes had gone by. "I know the article's not that long…"

Just then, the level of his eyes appeared over the brim of the magazine. They were slightly slanted, and Maya wasn't quite sure what he was thinking.

"I'm not going to tell you how to do your job, but you've definitely got potential."

What's that supposed to mean? "…Should I take that as a sideways compliment?"

"In a way…yes." He wiped the remaining crumbs off of the table and sat the book down, spread open, and he pointed to the large font of a title. "The name of the band you're writing about is 'Alleyway,' right?" At her silent nod, he continued, "Unless you're trying for a 'Mary sells seashells by the seashore' kind of approach, I'd revise it."

Maya's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" he tapped his finger twice against the page and leaned back, hesitating. "Look…I'm not saying to try for a cliché. Those things suck the life right out of your writing, but, see, there's no variety of words there. And the title sounds flat. If you read it aloud, it seems kind of obvious."

She wasn't going to pretend that she wasn't offended, and Hero knew that, too. He immediately scooted his chair back and began to stand up.

"I'm sorry," he instantly apologized. "It's not my place to say such things. Forgive me." He bowed, slightly, and turned to walk past her.

She caught his hand.

"What would you do different?" he heard her ask, her voice stern and serious.

"Pardon?"

"I asked," twisting her head so that she could stare up at him, she repeated, "what would you do different?" When he blinked, Maya continued, "Look, you already told me that the article is bad, so the least you could do is try to help me fix it."

"I didn't say it was bad," he argued, but sat back down at his chair anyway. "I did say you have potential. See, view me as a common critic. Now, people like me aren't going to be so nice, so I want to know if it's even worth giving a constructive review. Well?"

Her face remained unchanged, but after a moment, she nodded.

"All right," he smiled and pulled his chair in. "Look," Hero pointed back to the title. "You have the name of the band here, right? You want to make the title of it firm and easy to grasp. Even putting something like, 'Alleyway Debut Rolls…Right Out of the Alley!' sounds lame."

Hero was relieved when she burst out laughing and her eyes became friendly again. He returned the smile. "Something dramatic like, 'Alleyway Hits Sumaru City…Hard!' puts a little more juice into your title. It makes the reader say, 'wow, what's this about?' I'm not saying that that's what the title has to be, but for things like this, I'd stay away from the little bouncy, fun phrases. I mean…" he leaned forward, his hands shaking, as though he were getting excited with what he was saying. "This is big, right? This is hard and important! Everyone should know about this band! So, that's exactly what needs to be said: 'Alleyway—Big! Hard! Important! Anyone who's anyone should know about this.' Do you see?"

Maya rubbed her chin in thought, and nodded. "I see. And? What about the rest of the article?"

Growing comfortable with talking to her about her work, Hero asked, "Maya, how do you sort your notes when you write your paper?"

She looked at him, strangely. "I write down what people have to say about the topic at hand and put them in the article. It's just a simple, standard strategy."

Hero stared at her for a while and then pulled out the pen he had lent her earlier and grabbed a napkin. Leaning down, he proceeded to draw a large "I" on the delicate fold, and labeled the "I" as "Idea." Below the word, he wrote "Alleyway" and then slowly directed his gaze back up at Maya.

"'I' is for 'Idea.' Our 'Idea' is the Alleyway band. Our subtopic is how they are planning on making their debut here in Sumaru, right?" He tried not to sound condescending, but Maya didn't notice anyway.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Well, from there, we need smaller topics that branch off from that, yes?" She nodded. "What can we say? Ticket sales? Popularity? Even a small biography?" When Maya began to eye him, nervously, Hero moved back to the article. "Here, you say, 'Alleyway can be most delineated by their teenage outlook, which can be related to by most of the youth today, and spent their childhood in Denmark, attending the same schools until their graduation.' Directly following, you proceed to write, 'Teenagers in Sumaru are looking forward to their first debut, as a student says here…'" Hero trailed off. "It's inconsistent."

"How?"

"Well…remember back to our three smaller topics? Ticket sales, popularity, and biography. So, which category would that first sentence fit into?"

Maya glared at him, not much liking the idea of someone telling her how to do her job, but she answered anyway. "Biography."

"And the second?"

She frowned again, but wasted no time, "Popularity."

"So, what more could we say that can branch off of these topics and keep the paper flowing?" He handed her the article and she reread it. Maya said nothing for quite some time and he smiled. "You don't seem to understand, Maya. You definitely have an eye for the people, but your formatting skills could use some work."

"And how would you know all of this, Mr. Smart Guy?"

Hero leaned back in his chair. "Let's just say that I did very well in English class. Consistency keeps the reader."

Maya chewed on her bottom lip for a while longer, staring back and forth from her article to the man sitting before her. "So you think you can make my papers better?" She placed the magazine back into her bag. "I'm a poor, unorganized woman. Whatever your rates are, I can't accept them."

"Well, despite the fact that it was you who caused the untimely death of my cell phone, I was thinking about doing it for free."

Again, he received a look to kill. "Okay, Hotshot, if you think you can do such a better job than me, I'll let you handle my articles from now on." She stood up and turned to head to the restrooms. "But don't even think of compensation! This was entirely your doing."

As she stalked off, he chuckled and whispered, "Don't worry. I wouldn't dream of it, Sis."

\/\/\/

Baofu jolted upwards at twelve-thirty in the afternoon. There was a terrible ringing in his ears and it was rendering him nauseous. The bottle that he had held in his hands the night before was long since gone from his vision.

Or what was left of it.

Whatever, he growled and as his mind focused, he realized that the ringing was actually real. Gah, it's the stupid phone. But when he tried to pry himself from the couch, he was welcomed all too abruptly by his cold floor.

"Hello," he mumbled to it. The phone was still ringing, its loud and drawn out chime pushing him further and further to the brink of anger.

Baofu crawled across the floor, fingers outstretched and clawing at the carpet before him, pulling the weight of his body along from behind. He cursed himself for having placed the phone on the other side of the room and his bloodshot eyes glared up at the jittering instrument of the devil on the small table that was slowly approaching him.

The tap buster had a massive hangover from drinking since the morning before. And now, all he wanted to do was pay a visit and pray to the Porcelain King. He reached up, fingers tight, and pushed himself up on all fours when he still couldn't grab the phone.

The entire phone and hook crashed down on top of him, clanging wildly on the floor. But at least the ringing had stopped.

"What?" he almost snarled into the receiver.

"Kaoru," it was the chief and he didn't sound the least bit intimidated by Baofu's nasty greeting. In fact, he sounded…very serious.

To the best of his extent, Baofu sobered up and changed his attitude. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

The chief took a deep breath before he spoke again. "We found number seventy-nine in an alleyway behind the factory in the Konan ward."

Baofu dropped the phone.